


dear future husband

by carissima



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Not Your Average Pretend Relationship, Not Your Average Woke Up Married Either, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/pseuds/carissima
Summary: “Willy?” he says in disbelief.There’s a familiar groan, even though Willy’s eyes are screwed shut. “Turn off the light,” he whines pitifully.Zach stares at him and his stupid brain focuses on stupid little details like how Willy’s hair - currently fanned out over Zach’s pillows - looks a lot shorter than it did in practice earlier, or how Willy is shirtless.In his bed.





	dear future husband

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribbledmargins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbledmargins/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [scribbledmargins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribbledmargins/pseuds/scribbledmargins) in the [PuckingRare2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2018) collection. 



> prompt: Woke up married and then they have to stay that way ~for reasons~ bonus points if it's because the public found out about it so they have to fake like they're in love to save face
> 
> this ... isn't exactly what the prompt asked for BUT i hope you like it anyway! it's a fake relationship with a twist! woke up married with a twist! twists galore!
> 
> there is a note at the end to explain the twist with a possible trigger mention. stay safe!
> 
> huge thanks to b for explaining jewish customs to me, an unknowledgeable idiot, and to both b and c for the beta!

It’s pitch black when Zach wakes up but his mouth is dry and tastes like straw so he stumbles out of bed and feels his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. After downing the glass in one go, he fills it again and idly hopes that he’s not coming down with something so close to the end of the season. They’re within touching distance of the playoffs and Zach needs to play. He needs to help the team get past the first round this year because last year was amazing but this year, they’re all hungry for more.

He dumps the glass in the sink and heads back through the apartment, cursing softly as he stubs his toe because he misjudges where his furniture is before he tumbles back into bed.

The loud “oof!” that the bed makes has him scrambling to sit up, squinting at the dark huddle of blankets next to him. He definitely remembers going to bed alone last night, mostly because they’ve got a game tomorrow and he never hooks up the night before a game.

There’s also the fact that that he hasn’t even been interested in picking anyone up in the last few months. He’s been focused on hockey and the new book and not much else, if he’s being honest.

So he leans over and flicks on the light, bracing himself.

“Willy?” he says in disbelief.

There’s a familiar groan, even though Willy’s eyes are screwed shut. “Turn off the light,” he whines pitifully.

Zach stares at him and his stupid brain focuses on stupid little details like how Willy’s hair - currently fanned out over Zach’s pillows - looks a lot shorter than it did in practice earlier, or how Willy is shirtless. In his bed.

Willy finally rolls onto his back and opens his eyes, squinting up at him, a confused look marring his face. “Zach? What the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

Zach flings his arm out, gesturing to the room which is definitely his. “No, Willy. What are you doing in my bed?”

Willy hauls himself up onto his elbows and looks around. “Huh,” he says thoughtfully before dropping back down onto the bed and wriggling around a little before he makes a little happy humming noise. “Well, it is a nice bed. Comfortable. What mattress is this?”

Zach picks up a pillow and whacks him with it. “Willy, focus. Why are you in my bed?”

Willy shoves the pillow under his head and curls onto his side, facing Zach. “I remember going to sleep at home last night,” he says slowly. His hand is stroking slow movements over Zach’s sheets. “Probably a bit later than I should have on a pre-game night but whatever, I was just planning to have a longer nap before the game. Look, I don’t know why I’m in your bed but -” he breaks off to yawn, one arm reaching up to scratch the back of his neck - “it’s like, two in the morning, can we just get some sleep because we’re playing the Canucks tomorrow and the Canucks fucking suck, bro. We can figure this out in the morning, or whatever.”

Zach is still very focused on Willy being in his bed with no memory of it happening, but years of discipline kick in and he feels weariness from a season of pro hockey seeping into his consciousness and his body. “Okay,” he says. “I guess.”

He lays down again and is instantly incredibly thankful for his California King. He hears Willy roll over and flop onto his belly and almost immediately hears his soft snores. Zach rolls onto his side, facing away from his surprise bedmate and closes his eyes. He tries to focus on his breathing so that he can relax enough to fall asleep but he’s way too conscious of someone else being in his bed. It’s been a long, long time since he’s shared a bed with anyone, let alone anyone the size of Willy, emanating more heat than Zach’s used to.

He kicks off the covers and stares at the ceiling. Without even realising it, he matches his breaths to Willy’s and he drops off to sleep within minutes.

*

Zach wakes up hot.

Probably because Willy is plastered to his back, one arm slung around Zach’s waist, his hand pressing loosely against Zach’s belly. Zach’s first instinct is to shove him away and then work on kicking him out of his apartment, except then he feels Willy’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck, Willy’s lips brushing softly against his slightly damp, sensitive skin and Zach bites back a groan.

He really doesn’t need the reminder that it’s nice to share a bed now and again. At least, not with Willy. But maybe he should think about hooking up sometime before playoffs start, blow off some cobwebs, release some tension and have a good fucking time for one night.

Willy’s mouth settles on the curve of Zach’s neck and it’s nice to have a little cuddle, even if it is with his most erratic and flighty liney. Zach lets himself enjoy it for a full five seconds before he realizes that he’s hard. It’s just a morning thing, obviously, and has nothing to do with Willy being pressed up against him, all hard and solid and snuggly. Still, though.

“Hey,” Zach says, a little louder than he means to.

Willy grumbles sleepily and tightens his grip on Zach and wow, he’s rocking his hips lazily behind Zach and he’s as hard as Zach is.

Zach grits his teeth. “Willy, stop trying to hump me and wake the fuck up!”

Willy sighs like he’s being severely put upon and Zach rolls over to stare at him.

“Sorry, but whatever happens when I’m semi-conscious doesn’t count.” Willy yawns, stretching his limbs obnoxiously.

“Uh, yeah buddy it does,” Zach tells him because that shit is important. The apology was half-hearted at best anyway but Zach has bigger problems right now, like the big black hole in their memories from last night. “I’m gonna make breakfast when I get out of the shower and we’re going to figure out how you ended up in my bed.”

Willy throws him a leer that Zach adamantly ignores and he throws the covers off to climb out of bed.

“Maybe that ass is why I’m in your bed,” he hears Willy say behind him and Zach isn’t a prude by any means but he knows he’s flushing and he kind of wants to cover his ass up, even though they share a locker room. Being naked around a teammate is no big deal.

Well, normally, anyway. He doesn’t usually get naked in front of any of them in his bedroom, nor is he in the habit of sharing his bed with any of them.

Zach’s in the shower, halfway through washing his hair, shampoo dripping everywhere when he notices the fucking wedding ring on his finger. He yelps, smacks his head on the tiled wall and almost slips flat on his ass, his eyes never leaving the ring. It’s plain and gold and fuck, it’s a fucking wedding ring.

He bursts into his bedroom, his hair half-lathered, water dripping everywhere and a hastily grabbed towel slung low around his hips. Willy’s progressed to actually sitting up and he stares at Zach, his eyebrows high in surprise.

“Why is there a wedding band on my finger?” Zach asks. He shoves his hand under Willy’s nose.

“I don’t know,” Willy says, taking Zach’s hand and twisting it one way and the other, examining the ring. “It’s nice. Did you get married and not tell me?” and he actually fucking pouts at Zach, the asshole. “You know I love weddings. That’s just rude, y’know. I thought we were lineys. Bros. Best buddies.”

Zach rubs his temples because he’s definitely getting a headache. “Willy, I didn’t get married,” he says as calmly as he can manage.

“Oh,” Willy says, a little deflated. He’s twisting his hands together and it’s a little distracting for a moment until Zach’s gaze narrows on something shiny on Willy’s finger that he’s idly turning.

“Willy.” Zach lunges across the bed and grabs Willy’s hand. “Is this a wedding band?”

“Huh,” Willy says stupidly. He leans over Zach and they stare at their hands together. “They’re matching.”

“Fucking hell,” Zach says softly. He can’t stop staring at the rings.

“How did they get there?” Willy asks after a few minutes silence. He looks far more comfortable than Zach feels.

“No,” Zach says flatly. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Dude, did we get drunk and married last night?” Willy sounds positively gleeful.

“No, what?” Zach shoves Willy’s hand away finally and scrambles off the bed, his hand catching his towel a millisecond before it slips undone. He might clutch at it a little too hard but his head is spinning and he feels a little sick. “Of course we didn’t get married, Willy, what the fuck?”

Willy lifts his hand up, the ring on his finger glinting prettily as he brandishes it for Zach. As if Zach needs the fucking reminder.

“I need to - shower,” Zach says faintly and all but runs into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

*

By the time Zach’s out of the shower and busied himself with making breakfast, Willy is freshly showered and dressed in a pair of Zach’s sweats and one of his hoodies. Zach catches Hyman 11 on Willy’s back and he quickly downs a too-hot cup of coffee, slamming it down on the counter when he’s finished and quickly refilling the cup.

He needs the caffeine.

Zach’s not particularly hungry, even though he’s made enough food to feed five hockey players. Willy doesn’t seem to have any such problems though and Zach watches in vague disgust as Willy chows down three eggs before he even inhales.

“You gotta eat, bro,” Willy says as he picks up a glass of juice and waves it towards Zach. “Game day.”

Zach sighs heavily but he picks up some toast and starts buttering it.

A phone vibrates and Zach glances up to see Willy staring at his with a frown.

“What?” Zach asks, half-dreading the answer.

Willy looks up and shrugs. “I’ve got a whole bunch of texts that make no fucking sense.”

Zach bites back a hysterical laugh because nothing so far today has made any sense to him. “What do they say?”

“Freddie says: _Fuck you and tell Zach to fuck himself too_ ,” Willy reads. “Well, that’s rude?”

“Goalies, man,” Zach says and Willy nods solemnly, his foot nudging against Zach’s under the table. Zach can feel himself relax a little for the first time since he woke up. “What was the last thing you sent him before that?”

Willy scrolls up and shrugs. “Just some chirping about his game skills needing some work,” he says. “I don’t remember sending them though?”

“Yeah,” Zach sighs. “What else have you got?”

“Auston’s says: _pick you guys up at 9 don’t be fucking late we’re not waiting around for you to finish fucking this time_ ,” Willy recites.

“Waiting for you to finish fucking,” Zach echoes a little faintly. “He, what, like, he doesn’t mean us, right?”

“No,” Willy says with a confidence that Zach definitely isn’t feeling right now and he would probably kind of admire it if he wasn’t busy pretending that he’s not freaking out.

“I should probably check my phone too.” Zach picks his up, grateful to have something to distract him from Auston’s weird message. There’s a text from his mom reminding him about dinner tomorrow that he totally doesn’t remember agreeing to. There’s a vaguely threatening reminder not to cancel this time and that she wants to talk to Willy about their summer plans.

Zach throws his phone down, ignoring Willy’s slightly concerned look and buries his head in his hands. “Maybe I’ve got amnesia,” he wonders, his voice muffled where he’s hiding. From Willy, from life, he’s not sure anymore. Nothing makes sense.

“Hey man, don’t joke about that shit,” Willy says and this time it’s more of a kick that Zach gets under the table.

“Sorry,” Zach mumbles. Maybe one of the trainers can take a look at him and make sure though.

*

Auston picks them up on time, Mitch riding shotgun and shooting them a suspicious look as they climb in the back of the car.

“What?” Zach asks, feeling a small swell of panic rising inside of him.

“Nothing,” Mitch says with a smirk that Zach doesn’t trust for a second. “It’s just nice to see the two of you on time for once.”

Zach’s about to argue that he’s always on time, what the hell, when Willy’s hand drops onto his thigh and squeezes hard. Zach catches his warning look and turns to stare out of the window instead, only mildly fuming.

“Maybe the spark has finally gone between them, eh?” Auston says, and Zach’s grateful that he’s looking at Mitch because he’s pretty sure all the blood just left his own face.

“Nah, those two are gonna be married forever,” Mitch says easily.

Married, Zach mouths to himself, slightly shell-shocked.

Willy taps his ring a few times, forcing Zach to look over at him and he gets Willy’s phone thrust into his face. His finger is furiously pointing at something on the screen and it takes Zach a few seconds but eventually he sees it.

The date.

March 14, 2020.

Zach spends the rest of the ride trying not to hyperventilate, one hand squeezing Willy’s so tight that it’s going to be painful to let go, but Zach kind of needs the distraction right now.

They follow Mitch and Auston to the locker room and a quick glance around tells him that there’s some missing plaques. A quick Google search tells him that Kappy’s gone to Dallas, Gards is in California and Marts is back in New York, although he seems to be on LTIR. Zach slumps down in his stall, phone still in hand.

“Hey man, you alright? You seem a little distracted.”

Zach looks up and manages a wan smile for Auston. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Auston nods before he wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Oh fuck, please don’t tell me you were up all night having sex again, I don’t want to know anything else about Willy’s dick, man.”

Zach blinks at him until Auston rolls his eyes and starts stripping down for practice.

Somehow, they get through the skate and video review. He tells Auston that he and Willy don’t need a ride home and instead they call for an Uber and spend the entire drive home in silence, both of them Googling furiously to find out what the fuck is going on.

“It’s 2020 and we’re married and everyone knows,” Zach says breathlessly as soon as the front door is closed behind them. “This has to be a dream. Nothing about this is real, right? You and me can’t be married. That’s fucking insane.”

Willy heads straight for the kitchen and starts rifling through cupboards until he finds food. “Yeah,” he says finally, his mouth full of chips. “You’re not even gay.”

Zach immediately feels his cheeks heat and he very deliberately stares somewhere over Willy’s shoulder. “Uh, no?”

“What?!” Willy drops the chips onto the counter and he actually looks surprised for the first time since this whole mess started. It makes Zach feel a little better, if he’s being honest.

“Technically, I’m bi,” Zach admits. He’s come out in some weird fucking conversations but this one is probably the winner. Most guys probably don’t come out to their husbands after the marriage ceremony.

“What the fuck?” Willy looks a little hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We’re not that close,” Zach points out. “Most of the team doesn’t know.”

“Um, I think we are that fucking close, since you made an honest man out of me,” Willy says, crossing his arms and staring pointedly at him.

“Hey, it’s not like you’ve told me anything about your sexuality either,” Zach says defensively.

Willy’s arms drop and he shrugs easily. “I’ve always been a little fluid,” he says simply.

Zach needs a fucking drink. They’ve got a game in a few hours, so liquor is out, but he grabs a Gatorade from the fridge and offers one to Willy, who shakes his head. He’s busy doing something on his phone so Zach leans back against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles in some pretence of ease and sighs heavily. “So I’m bi and you’re fluid, so like, this isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility then. I just, like, how the fuck did the two of us end up married? To each other? In the past two years?”

“2018,” Willy says, distractedly.

Zach raises his eyebrows and wonders if he’s meant to know what Willy is talking about. “Huh?”

“We got married in 2018,” Willy says.

“No we didn’t,” Zach says flatly.

Willy shows him the website he’s browsing and then flicks through five different tabs, all saying the same thing. Zachary Martin Hyman married William Andrew Michael Junior Nylander Altelius in August, 2018 in a small Jewish ceremony with the full support of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization.

“Jewish,” Zach murmurs, feeling oddly pleased.

“‘Hyman and Nylander paved the way for others in the NHL to come out, attending Toronto’s Pride Parade and keeping it separate in the locker room’,” Willy reads out loud. “Hey, they’ve got a quote from Auston. ‘They’re pretty grossly in love,’ teammate Auston Matthews says. ‘But they’re 100% professional at work. Nothing but hockey.’”

“That’s actually pretty nice,” Zach murmurs.

“I’m gonna text Kappy,” Willy announces, tilting his phone so Zach can watch him type out a message asking if he’s actually married to Zach.

Three messages come through almost instantly.

**Kappy: is this a prank**

**Kappy: reply to my snap bro**

The third is a picture of Zach and Willy all dressed up and holding hands. Willy has an obnoxiously bright yellow boutonniere and they’re both wearing a kippah. It’s obviously from their wedding day and it’s the photo that finally convinces Zach that this is real. Willy is his husband. They’re really and truly married.

“Hey, we look cute in our suits,” Willy says, leaning slightly into Zach’s side.

Wow, is all Zach can think. In the photo, Willy’s holding onto Zach tight, his suit crumpled where Willy’s hand is gripping his waist. It looks … well, it looks like Willy doesn’t want to let him go. He’s flushed and happier than Zach’s ever seen him and it’s a lot to take in.

Zach slumps down onto the floor, right there in his kitchen - their kitchen? - and Willy joins him, their knees bent as they lean back against the cupboards.

“Oh,” Willy says softly, drawing Zach’s attention. He’s staring out through the doorway, into the hall and Zach follows his gaze until he sees what Willy’s looking at. It’s another photo from their wedding day. It’s obnoxiously huge and Zach’s honestly not sure how he didn’t notice it before now. The actual frame is wonky and the picture itself is not Zach’s most flattering angle and Willy’s mouth is too wide as he laughs in the shot, but somehow it’s still really nice. Zach’s staring at Willy, a smile on his face and their fingers are tangled together and it’s just, well, nice. Sweet. Vaguely nauseating.

Zach’s embarrassingly so into it.

“Hey Hubs,” Willy says softly. He presses his thigh against Zach’s where they’re sitting, Zach’s ass is kind of numb and it’s probably a bad idea for them to be sitting on a tiled floor for too long before a game. They should get up.

“This can’t be real,” is what Zach says instead of standing up. He’s a little busy staring at Willy’s thighs and okay, he’s had a few thoughts about them before, like, honestly who hasn’t? Except now he’s kind of allowed to think about Willy’s thighs, since they’re married. Zach can think about how they might feel wrapped around his hips or whatever and his husband is just really, really hot and something about that seems both incredible and incredibly unfair, somehow.

“Why can’t it be real?” Willy asks, sounding confused.

“Because you’re fluid and you’ve never given me a second look in what, three years?” Zach says, a little exasperated for reasons that he’d rather not examine right now. “We’re supposed to get married in five months. You’re not that impulsive.”

Willy cocks his head thoughtfully. “Maybe I just wanted to lock you up, take you off the market,” he says. “Make sure everyone knew you were taken. That you were mine, you know?”

Zach laughs and it’s only a little painful because Willy’s clearly chirping him, but whatever.

“Dude,” Willy says, his eyebrows drawing together as he shifts into a small pout. “I’m serious. Kiss me.”

“I’m not gonna kiss you,” Zach protests. No fucking way.

Apparently Willy doesn’t hear him because Willy just climbs into his lap, straddling him and Zach’s hands fall to Willy’s hips too naturally, like this is something they’ve done before. Possibly lots of times before. Muscle memory or whatever.

He can’t think, he’s too dazed and overwhelmed at having Willy this close, their bodies pressed together. Willy’s weight pinning him down feels really, really nice and he watches Willy tilt his head and okay, they’re kissing now.

Holy shit, they’re kissing.

Willy is a really good kisser. Zach wants to laugh, maybe, but he can’t catch his breath, he’s too busy holding onto Willy and kissing him back. He’s big and solid and his hair is tickling Zach’s cheek just a little and he’s like, submerged in Willy and he doesn’t want to let go.

“Holy fuck,” he hears Willy whisper before they’re back to kissing and they’re kind of rubbing off against each other, both of them hard and Willy’s hands are all over Zach, until he belatedly realizes that Willy’s trying to strip his shirt off. Zach’s breathless, panting hard and he doesn’t help Willy with the buttons but he doesn’t stop him either.

Fuck, this is so fast, he thinks while his head spins. Willy’s kissing Zach’s neck where it’s exposed from his rapidly disappearing shirt and then it’s off and Willy is muttering something about Zach’s arms that makes him grin until Willy’s lips close around Zach’s nipple and he sucks like he fucking already knows it’s Zach’s sensitive spot.

Zach hisses, his hand coming up to cup Willy’s head, holding him there as Willy’s teeth worry at his nipple, sending shivers down Zach’s spine. “Fuck,” he curses, his other hand on Willy’s ass as he grinds down on Zach.

They’re both kind of embarrassingly frantic, grabbing and tearing at each others’ clothes until they’re both naked, rubbing against each other, Zach’s head buried in Willy’s shoulder as he urges Willy on, his thigh between Willy’s and fuck, he’s gonna come right now.

It’d be pretty humiliating except Willy makes an odd noise and Zach, without thinking about it, bites down hard on the curve of Willy’s neck and Willy comes like that, his fingers digging so hard into Zach’s waist that he’s definitely going to have bruises and he doesn’t even care because he feels so fucking awesome right now.

“We’ve just defiled my kitchen,” Zach says eventually. His head is resting back against the cupboard where he keeps his protein shakes and Willy is slumped over him, all loose-limbed and snuggly. He thinks he feels Willy shake a little, like maybe he’s laughing and Zach grins, his fingers threading through Willy’s messed up sex hair. “We need to get to a bed.”

Willy waits for Zach to stand up and casts a rueful look at their clothes, scattered all over Zach’s previously pristine floor, before he hauls himself up and flings his arms around Zach’s neck, jumping up onto his back.

Zach laughs in surprise, his hands locking around Willy’s legs automatically before he can think about it. “Lazy,” he scolds but he carries Willy anyway, dumping him on the bed with an unrepentant grin before he tumbles in after him.

Willy immediately curls up in Zach’s side, shifting around until he’s got Zach’s arm around him and he kicks a leg out over one of Zach’s.

“Comfortable?” Zach asks dryly.

“Mmmm,” Willy mumbles. He’s drawing idle circles on Zach’s chest. “Very comfortable, thanks.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes and Zach’s about to fall asleep, pleasantly relaxed in a way that he can’t remember being in years, when Willy lifts his head and looks down at Zach with a sly grin that Zach doesn’t trust at all.

“I’m obviously very smart,” Willy says, looking pretty smug.

“Oh yeah?” Zach puts one hand behind his head and raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“You write kids’ books, so you’re gonna be like, awesome with our kids,” Willy says, and he says it so simply, so fucking matter-of-factly that Zach leans up, curves a hand around Willy’s cheek and pulls him in for a short, hard kiss. Willy’s flushed when Zach sinks back down onto the pillows. “Plus, you’re gonna be rich as fuck with all the royalties.”

“Willy, you’re pretty set for life yourself,” Zach says dryly.

Willy just shrugs and settles back into Zach’s arms, one hand stroking up and down Zach’s bicep like he’s tracing and learning the lines of Zach’s body. “I’m still smart though,” he says softly.

Zach’s still grinning when he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

*

Willy kisses him awake, which is probably the best way that Zach’s ever woken up in his life. Zach lets himself wake all the way up before he easily flips Willy onto his back and blows him because why the fuck not if they’re married, taking his time and being as thorough as he can, until Willy’s whining and making these like, awesome noises and he’s gripping the sheets so hard that his knuckles turn white.

It takes Willy a full five minutes to become coherent again, which totally does good things for Zach’s ego.

“I’m never gonna look at your mouth the same way again, dude,” Willy says almost reverently, his fingers tracing over Zach’s lips and laughing when Zach pretends to bite them. “You’ve fucking ruined me forever.”

Good, Zach thinks, his hand possessive on Willy’s hip as he lets Willy kiss him, all filthy and full of promises for after the game.

*

They arrive at the ACC five minutes late and ignore Auston’s knowing smirk. Zach focuses on getting ready, but his gaze drifts over towards Willy every so often and more often than not, Willy’s already looking back. There’s heat in Willy’s gaze and Zach flushes each time he sees it, grinning stupidly and feeling a lot better about how ridiculous he’s being when Willy can’t seem to stop grinning back at him.

“God, this is worse than when you guys first got together,” Mo complains, jolting Zach out of where he’s watching Willy tape his socks, being all meticulous and distracting with his clever hands. It’s not Zach’s fault, honestly.

He tries to focus though and it works, somehow. He gets through warmups and they hit the ice and it’s like no time has passed. He skates and he hits and he shoots and he digs out pucks from the corners and it’s all so normal. He’s got this.

Then Willy scores and Auston gets to him first but Zach isn’t far behind. Willy’s arms go around them both like they have a million times before but just as Zach’s chest crashes into Willy’s, he feels it, and oh. Then he catches Willy’s wide, exuberant grin and Zach’s stomach swoops and oh. Fuck.

They win 4-1 because the Habs suck so bad and the locker room is buzzing. After everyone’s done with their media commitments and they’ve finished their warm-downs, Mitch is organizing celebratory drinks but Zach catches Willy’s gaze and there’s that heat again.

“Alright old-marrieds, you’re coming right?” Mitch asks, slinging his arm around Willy and looking at Zach expectantly.

“Sorry Marns,” Willy says, patting Mitch’s hand before he slips out from underneath his arm and grabs his stuff. “I’m gonna go home and fuck my husband.”

Zach lets out a startled laugh as the rest of the guys groan around him, seemingly good-natured like they put up with this shit from Willy and Zach all the time.

“Cool,” Mitch says easily as Willy grabs Zach’s hand and tugs him towards the door. “Have fun!”

“We will,” Willy calls over his shoulder and the door closes behind them on Auston’s groan.

Willy hustles him into their car and then proceeds to keep his hands all over Zach as he tries to drive home without crashing the car. Willy keeps sliding his hand way too high on Zach’s thigh until he’s all but groping Zach’s dick and he’s never been so relieved as he is when he parks the car and they’re both in one piece. Zach’s barely got the car in park before he’s reaching for Willy, hauling him into his lap and kissing him like he’ll drown if he doesn’t taste him right now.

Willy wriggles on his lap, totally handsy and probably risking an indecent exposure charge until Zach shoves him out of the car. Except Willy pins him against the car and kisses him until Zach’s breathless.

“No, wait,” Zach manages to get out and he pushes at Willy, who insists on kissing him all the way up to Zach’s apartment. It’s distracting and perfect and Zach needs to get Willy naked right now because he scored a gorgeous goal and he’s not sure if they reward each other for stuff like that but if they don’t, then they totally should and he’s starting tonight.

They fuck against the front door - at least they made it inside, Zach thinks afterwards when he’s completely fucked out, Willy sprawled over him - and it’s desperate and nuclear and Zach feels something inside him fundamentally shift as Willy shakes against him, their eyes fixed on each other as they come almost in unison.

“I think,” Zach mumbles into Willy’s shoulder, “I think I love you.”

Willy lifts his head and kisses him until Zach finally, unsteadily gets up and takes him to bed.

*

Zach wakes up alone. He knows as soon as he opens his eyes that everything is different, even though it all looks the same. He knows Willy isn’t just in the bathroom or pottering around in the kitchen. He knows Willy’s clothes aren’t in his closet, that there’s no wedding picture haphazardly nailed on the wall in his hallway.

He picks up his phone to check the date and 2018 stares back at him.

Zach jumps out of bed and throws on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. His hair is a mess and he should probably shower but instead he’s throwing open his front door.

Willy’s already there.

He’s out of breath, like maybe he ran all the way from his place. “I woke up and you weren’t there,” he says and he’s staring at Zach like he hasn’t seen him in years instead of a few hours. “Or I wasn’t here. Whatever.”

Zach huffs out a laugh and pulls Willy in for a hug. He’s solid. He’s here.

“Zach,” Willy says, his voice muffled where he’s buried his face into Zach’s shoulder. “We’re getting married in five months. We’ve got so much planning to do.”

Zach laughs and runs his hands down Willy’s back, over his hips, up to his waist. Learning and remembering. “Yeah babe. I know. We’ve got this.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is about time travel and so it deals with some mentions of suspected memory loss but they haven’t actually lost any memories, they just haven’t lived that part of their lives yet


End file.
